P
Povero
Guest
I was born through C section, at 7 months gestation. My mother was hemorrhaging, probably placenta previa (this was the year 1947, no one knew about that then). She was in hospital for 24 hours before a C section was done, don’t ask me why. The Dr. told my father I was dead “no heartbeat”, and my mother might die during delivery. Why did I survive?
In the nursery, they fed me the wrong thing, I lost weight, I almost died. Why did I survive?
At age five, I contracted double pneumonia and (what was later determined) pericarditis (infection of the sack that holds the heart). I was too sick to move, there were no childrens’ wards then. I had an NDE. The Blessed Mother came to me, I remember it very clearly, a liquid “brown”, a blinding light that suffused into a figure sitting to my right hand side. She told me I would have a “broken heart” and suffer greatly, and asked if I was willing to do this for the purpose of God. My biological mother shook me because she thought I was dying or dead. I remember opening my eyes and telling her, “Leave me alone, I want to be with the lady.”
My entire life this apparition was before me, always. I knew there was “something” I was supposed “to do”, I just did not know what it was. I thought, believed, it involved a cataclysmic event, perhaps worldwide (and it might yet). I was given a number: 23. As I grew older, that number became quite obviously important; not superstitious, important. On the 23rd day of various months (far apart in my life), life changing and enormously challenging things occurred to me and so I began to fear that number. At age 39, probabaly on July 23, 1986, I conceived my daughter. I was infertile, I had a tilted uterus, I had endometriosis (serious), I had one dead ovary (I didn’t know it). This was the child I begged God for. I asked for a “child to raise”…not a baby, a “child to raise” because I had worked through the damage done to me by my biological mother and father and I knew I would be the absolute best mother possible. He answered me. I refused the amniocentesis because I said, “I will take whatever God gives me.”
My daughter was never “normal”. She was an irritable baby (even before birth), a difficult “wild child” until about age five, not what I expected but I loved her with my entire being. She was God’s gift to me in a lifetime of rejection, dismissal, emotional injury, loss, abandonment, and pain. she was the light of my life Sad to say, in her letter to me prior to her suicide, she said, “You have been the light of my life.”
I watched this glorious soul, brilliant, absolutely beautiful, so intelligent and gifted, slowly turn from about age 15 until her death into a “stranger” to herself and to me. I couldn’t stop it. I used to pray to God, PLEASE LET ME DIE TONIGHT because I couldn’t stop it. I did everything humanly possible, fought the system, dragged in a world famous psychiatrist, locked up everything in my home to prevent suicide in a safe behind a padlocked closet in my bedroom which had a deadbolt lock on it I COULDN’T STOP IT. Oh my God, He allowed my child to take her life, He took from me the only thing that made my life worth living.
It is more than three years later. I have traveled the world, I have done everything in my power to achieve sainthood so I could earn JUST ONE Plenary Indulgence for her. Thirty Gregorian Masses were said for her. I stood in general audience before Pope Francis, for her. What more can I do? And why am I still alive?
Did I truly fulfill a purpose as told me by my Mammon Marie, or am I deluding myself? I have been shipwrecked. I now live in a lifeboat. With me in that lifeboat is a dangerous animal, a Bengal Tiger. There is no land in sight. At times, I can calm the Tiger; at other times, it attempts to kill me. No safe harbor. WHAT AM I, why has God chosen me for this? Does ANYONE have any intuitive or spiritual answer? I feel like a freak, a total failure, a mistake, an accident. And I rest my head in the lap of my Mammon Marie every morning and every night because, without her warning, I would not be alive. My daughter was age 23. She took her life on the 2nd day of the 3rd month. She called me at 4:23PM and after that call I jumped off the couch and KNEW, I just KNEW. WHAT am I?
In the nursery, they fed me the wrong thing, I lost weight, I almost died. Why did I survive?
At age five, I contracted double pneumonia and (what was later determined) pericarditis (infection of the sack that holds the heart). I was too sick to move, there were no childrens’ wards then. I had an NDE. The Blessed Mother came to me, I remember it very clearly, a liquid “brown”, a blinding light that suffused into a figure sitting to my right hand side. She told me I would have a “broken heart” and suffer greatly, and asked if I was willing to do this for the purpose of God. My biological mother shook me because she thought I was dying or dead. I remember opening my eyes and telling her, “Leave me alone, I want to be with the lady.”
My entire life this apparition was before me, always. I knew there was “something” I was supposed “to do”, I just did not know what it was. I thought, believed, it involved a cataclysmic event, perhaps worldwide (and it might yet). I was given a number: 23. As I grew older, that number became quite obviously important; not superstitious, important. On the 23rd day of various months (far apart in my life), life changing and enormously challenging things occurred to me and so I began to fear that number. At age 39, probabaly on July 23, 1986, I conceived my daughter. I was infertile, I had a tilted uterus, I had endometriosis (serious), I had one dead ovary (I didn’t know it). This was the child I begged God for. I asked for a “child to raise”…not a baby, a “child to raise” because I had worked through the damage done to me by my biological mother and father and I knew I would be the absolute best mother possible. He answered me. I refused the amniocentesis because I said, “I will take whatever God gives me.”
My daughter was never “normal”. She was an irritable baby (even before birth), a difficult “wild child” until about age five, not what I expected but I loved her with my entire being. She was God’s gift to me in a lifetime of rejection, dismissal, emotional injury, loss, abandonment, and pain. she was the light of my life Sad to say, in her letter to me prior to her suicide, she said, “You have been the light of my life.”
I watched this glorious soul, brilliant, absolutely beautiful, so intelligent and gifted, slowly turn from about age 15 until her death into a “stranger” to herself and to me. I couldn’t stop it. I used to pray to God, PLEASE LET ME DIE TONIGHT because I couldn’t stop it. I did everything humanly possible, fought the system, dragged in a world famous psychiatrist, locked up everything in my home to prevent suicide in a safe behind a padlocked closet in my bedroom which had a deadbolt lock on it I COULDN’T STOP IT. Oh my God, He allowed my child to take her life, He took from me the only thing that made my life worth living.
It is more than three years later. I have traveled the world, I have done everything in my power to achieve sainthood so I could earn JUST ONE Plenary Indulgence for her. Thirty Gregorian Masses were said for her. I stood in general audience before Pope Francis, for her. What more can I do? And why am I still alive?
Did I truly fulfill a purpose as told me by my Mammon Marie, or am I deluding myself? I have been shipwrecked. I now live in a lifeboat. With me in that lifeboat is a dangerous animal, a Bengal Tiger. There is no land in sight. At times, I can calm the Tiger; at other times, it attempts to kill me. No safe harbor. WHAT AM I, why has God chosen me for this? Does ANYONE have any intuitive or spiritual answer? I feel like a freak, a total failure, a mistake, an accident. And I rest my head in the lap of my Mammon Marie every morning and every night because, without her warning, I would not be alive. My daughter was age 23. She took her life on the 2nd day of the 3rd month. She called me at 4:23PM and after that call I jumped off the couch and KNEW, I just KNEW. WHAT am I?
